» The worst sex I ever had

Am I the only guy here
Who's loving this QOTW because I get to read loads of girls' answers about sex with guys with tiny cocks, and so feel immensely manly?

Click "I like this" if you're also suddenly feeling very proud of your manhood.
(Sun 17th Jun 2007, 0:02, More)

» I witnessed a crime

School Bully Retribution
2 years ago, during my AS level year, I was on the last bus-ride of my daily trek home.
Getting on the bus, I looked out the window to the opposite side of the busy A-road. I was tired, bored and just wanted to go home, but what I saw grabbed my attention immediately.

Three boys and a girl, all looking about 13 or 14, were coming out of the nearby tube station in their uniforms, walking together.
By walking together, I mean that the boys were following the girl, taunting her, pinching her, trying to trip her up and not letting her get away.
The sight was disgusting. The boys were actually hitting her. She was twitching with pain, flinching at any vaguely hostile movement from a boy. But this assault on the defenceless girl wasn't the worst of it, oh no.

Their half-broken voices pierced through the bus' thick windows as I watched on in horror. The girl was quite short, podgy and ginger, and were they letting her know it. They called her all manner of cruel names, and the tears were welling up in her eyes. I could see her desperately trying to hold back her sorrow, to not let them have the satisfaction of breaking her. But she was in the midst of puberty, with her self-esteem at an all-time vulnerable low and they were ruining her development, shattering her confidence, striking at her deepest insecurities. I could see from where I stood the look of true pain on her face, and it was borne not of their physical barrage but of their mental torture, their brutal beating of her self-image at this crucial time in her life.

By this point I couldn't have been standing there more than 20 seconds, but I'd seen enough.
I am usually incredibly calm, but then I could feel the rage build up in my heart, feel the anger course through my body and seep into my very being. I wanted nothing but retribution on these little scummy pieces of shit.

Now everyone had got onto the bus and the doors had just closed. It was about to pull away, but at this point everything changed for me. I wasn't going to be my usual slow-to-react self.
I shouted at the top of my voice to the driver that I was getting off. He looked round to me in annoyance but this quickly turned to a wide-eyed fear as I stared him down, my fists clenched, my teeth bared, poised to pounce. He stopped and opened the doors.

I leapt out of the bus and marched across the road. I cared not for the cars hooting, nor my safety, nor for any obstacle in the way of satiating my bloodlust. The boys were in my sights. They didn't even notice me pounding ominously towards them they were so embroiled in hurting this girl. But I made them notice.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?" I roared at the top of my voice as I approached. Other commuters exiting the station started to stare. I had their attention.

I grabbed the largest boy by his underarms and lifted him up, slamming him against the nearby wall.
"DO YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY TO PICK ON HELPLESS PEOPLE!? DO YOU FIND IT AMUSING TORMENTING THOSE WHO DON'T FIGHT BACK?!?"

The boy let out a small whimper. I think he tried to say something, but at this point I was past caring. Onlookers simply walked on by, their introverted Londoner tendencies out-weighing any desire to intervene.

"DO YOU FIND IT FUNNY NOW?" I screamed and threw him to the ground, then proceeded to do the same to his two cronies, all unable to break their falls due to the terror-induced mal-co-ordination.
I was determined to scare them, to show them the other side of bullying, to give this girl some dearly-needed protection that her bullies would never forget. She just stared on in amazement, stroking her bruises absent-mindedly.

"GIVE ME YOUR SCHOOLBOOKS" I screamed, my lungs unleashing a voice that boomed like thunder and caused them to visibly tremor. They could only stare blankly. Each took off their bag, and I ripped the zip off each one in turn, taking a schoolbook from each.

I smiled. "Now I have your names and the name of your school. Your headmaster will be hearing from me about your behaviour." And with that, I walked off, leaving them to struggle up from the ground in horror and the girl to make her quick getaway.



At least, that is what would have happened. That is what I would have done, that is the series of events that has played out in my head ever since, that is what the ferocity that took me over had urged me to do.
However, when I observed this taking place, by the time I had made my plan to deliver justice and find a way of getting their names, by the time I had turned around to get off the bus, it had actually already started pulling away unbeknown to me during my distraction.

With my surprise at this event I did not think to try to stop the bus, and in typical Londoner introversion I did not think nor want to shout at the driver.

Instead all I did was turn back around in time to see those boys and that girl turn into a road leading to a maze of residential streets. By the time I stopped at the next bus stop and walked back, they could be anywhere in suburbia. I was too late.
Instead of justice, I spent the rest of that bus journey and most of the following weeks boiling with anger.
Anger at them, anger at the world that produced them, but most of all anger at myself for being so slow to do what was right.


To this day it is one of my greatest regrets that I did not get off that bus.
(Thu 14th Feb 2008, 23:39, More)

» Expensive Mistakes

T'other week
I work at the local college, where in these days of paperless offices everything is done on the puter: the databases, exam entry, pretty much all communication, taking the class registers is done online, and even the door locks are done on the same system (ID cards and electric locks).

So imagine my horror as, when I reach over to the door release button to buzz a teacher in (they never remember their cards) I accidentally knock over my tea, and watch as it pours down a crack in the desk directly into a mains socket. Fucksocks!

Panicking, I whip the plug out with my foot. Phew! Problem solved, right? It can just dry out.

Except looking up, my computer (plugged into another socket) is off. In fact, as I test them, all the computers in the office are off. And it's somewhat darker... the lights are off. In fact, absolutely everything had shorted out - the radiators, phones, printers, faxes... even the door locks. Ah.

It could be OK though, my other co-workers were on holiday for half term or currently at lunch. But oh no. I could hear cries of confusion. Looking into the next offices, I'd shorted out them too. And the reception desk, with students waiting impatiently. In fact, I'd shorted out every single office and department on my side of the building. I panicked: my boss, who we shall call Angela (for that isn't her name), would be coming back from lunch soon!

Now, here's the thing about the door locks: they're very sensetive and efficient, so people are used to waving their cards in the general direction of the scanner and walking straight through.

So my pièce de résistance was timidly asking the recepionist "Do you think we can sort it out before the boss notices?" just as Angela herself whacks head-first into the door with an audible *THUD*, her hand still waving her ID card futily at the scanner.

Apparently she noticed.


Length? Fixed after about an hour, but I was still laughed at for days.
(Fri 26th Oct 2007, 10:35, More)

» I witnessed a crime

It's been a long day
It were a rainy winter day and I'd caught a particularly bad bought of food-poisoning. Being the stoic hunk of a man that I am though, I decided to go into work anyway.

We'd been surveying a building due to be demolished the next day and I'd had to go back because I'd stupidly left my mobile there on the second floor.

When I arrived though, the ominous gut rumblings started. I was helpless: resistance was futile. This was coming out, and I didn't fancy facing the pants-pocolypse that would result if I didn't do something.

"Well" I thought "The building is due to be demolished anyway..."

They'd left a bucket to collect debris from a full-length window cavity they'd recently de-windowed, so I thought I'd be vaguely civilized and use it to deposit my own "debris". I even had a tissue in my pocket to wipe myself up with afterwards!

My bowel barrage was finished and the crisis was averted. Unfortunately, I became a bit too confident and whilst doing my "yay I didn't project shit all down my clothes" dance I knocked the bucket through the empty cavity and into the street below.

Ah.

Peering timidly over, I saw that whilst the bucket had landed safely on the pavement, it's contents had exited mid-flight, and found a new home on a black-and-white dressed street performer. To make matters worse, the rain spread it right down as he could only look on in his characteristic silence. He was now covered in the shit and debris, it had formed another layer over his clothing like a giant three-piece shit suit with a building debris finish.


That's right, I shit-dressed a mime.


I'm so sorry. Someone had to try a pun...
(Fri 15th Feb 2008, 14:52, More)

» Karma

Aged 12
My friend Ben, who was incredibly competetive, had performed significantly worse than I in a test. Time for some gloatage!

So, as we walk out the classroom and into the courtyard, I turn to him and say
"Just admit it Ben, when compared to me, you're just so stupi-"
And smacked face-first into a pillar cos I wasn't looking.

Bah.
(Mon 25th Feb 2008, 11:28, More)